I looked up and caught my father smiling at me. “Am I gonna go to college?” I asked.
“Don’t you want to get the buried treasure?”
“Yeah, but how do you get it?” I fidgeted with the bottom of my T-shirt.
“Well, you gotta get a career.” My father put his finger back on the dotted line and followed the fifth ship to “Career Island,” the last island on the map. “Ya see?”
On this island a man peered into a microscope, his head surrounded by a halo of red stars and green dollar signs. In the middle of the island a small door, made of graph paper and bearing a thick black X, was taped to the drawing.
“What’s a career?”
“A career is what you do after college. You become a doctor, lawyer, scientist … anything you want. That’s when you find the buried treasure.” He tapped the X with the tips of his fingers.
I reached over and pulled back the little paper door, exposing a small magazine photo of a treasure chest overflowing with diamonds, pearls, and gold coins. Just above that a small pocket contained a five-dollar bill, folded up and neatly tucked inside.
“Holy cow!” My eyes widened. “The buried treasure!” I plucked the bill from the pocket and waved it in the air.
“You found it,” my father said, pinching my cheek.
Five dollars—it was all the money in the world. I could go out and buy gum, candy, a million baseball cards.
“Lemme see whatcha got there.” My father held out his hand and flapped his fingers, motioning for me to give him the money.
“Can’t I keep it?”
“Yeah, but … not now.” He pulled the bill from my hand and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. “Daddy’s gonna save it for you for when you get older.”
“But why can’t I keep it? I found it. I found the buried treasure.”
My father didn’t answer, he just stood staring at me with a strange, sad look on his face. I felt cheated. The bond of trust I had for him had suddenly been swallowed up and washed away as if I were hit by a tidal wave. I turned back to the map. All the lines and pictures were a blur. I imagined I was on the ship, fighting the waves to find the buried treasure. I reached out and gently passed my fingertips over the picture of the treasure chest. From behind, my father wrapped his arms around me. He squeezed my body tight and kissed my face. His breath was warm and heavy, and my nostrils filled with the smell of tobacco and alcohol.